


The Eggsy Unwin Guide to Devastating Opponents By Reading Tells

by gonergone



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 11:27:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19425046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gonergone/pseuds/gonergone
Summary: He had got rather good at pretending he didn't understand the look that Roxy gave him when he got back from Harry's, usually still smiling.  Not that smiling meant anything, he liked to point out.  Sometimes people were just happy, that was all.Even him.





	The Eggsy Unwin Guide to Devastating Opponents By Reading Tells

**Author's Note:**

  * For [innie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/innie/gifts).



Somehow, without him even being aware it was happening, Eggsy had gotten in the habit of picking up Ethiopian take away and dropping it off at Harry's when he knew Harry was working late, which seemed like it was most of the time. Eggsy had never much liked it - the sheer goopiness was always a problem when you were wearing the kind of clothes that didn't forgive that sort of thing - but Harry _loved_ it, and that was enough of a reason to keep doing it. 

They would eat, and Harry would explain things in the patient way he had, and then they would argue without any heat in it, and by the time Eggsy left, Harry looked like a little bit of the weight of the world was gone, and Eggsy would smile all the way home. He had got rather good at pretending he didn't understand the look that Roxy gave him when he got back from Harry's, usually still smiling. Not that smiling meant anything, he liked to point out. Sometimes people were just happy, that was all.

Even him.

*

There were times that Eggsy suspected Harry was putting on the posh persona extra thick just to get under his skin, and there were times Eggsy _knew_ he was.

It was almost always when they were out in public, a restaurant or a shop, Harry's posture and accent changing ever so slightly, so that even if Eggsy was paying attention (it felt like Eggsy was always paying attention) it took Eggsy a moment. He'd level Harry with the dead-eyed stare he'd been developing for just these occasions, hoping that it would cover his annoyance and knowing that Harry would pick up on it anyway.

He always did, which always annoyed Eggsy more, and there was fuck all he could do about it.

That was the worst bit.

He tried to comfort himself that,as impossible as it was becoming to keep any secrets at all from Harry, at least knowledge was a two way street. Eggsy wasn't as good at is as Harry, he still had to work at figuring out whether a slight narrowing of the eyes was tiredness or anger or something else entirely, but he was picking it up.

Eggsy knew which days were Harry's Guiness days and which days were for something stronger. Knew every ironic eyebrow raise and could read his mood by the slightest difference in incline when he cocked his head. Knew his favorite cufflinks and could predict which of his roughly ten million ties he'd be wearing on any given day without having to think about it too hard. Knew that Harry tended to telegraph his uncertainty in his hands - his left hand, specifically. It would curl hard around the handle of his umbrella or whatever else he happened to be holding when he was nervous about something and too tired or distracted to hide it. Eggsy liked knowing that especially; he felt like it was something only he had noticed, a piece of Harry that only he understood. 

The problem was that none of that knowledge was transferable; that knowing Harry Hart inside and out wasn't exactly helping him with his training, but Eggsy didn't care so much about that. Harry was his private puzzle, and somehow that was even better.

*  
Between 2:11 and 2:13 in the afternoon, no matter what else was happening (and there was always something happening), Harry would frown slightly, look at his watch, and sigh almost inaudibly. _Almost_. That soft sound was enough to propel Eggsy up and putting on the kettle before he'd even realized what he was doing, his body on autopilot as he sorted out hot water, mugs, tea. When he turned around Harry would have appeared silently beside him, pulling out the sugar and cream that was only for Eggsy. Neither of them would say a word as Eggsy dropped tea cups on saucers and Harry slid a spoon next to Eggsy's, the ballet of china becoming engrained until Eggsy was convinced he could do it in his sleep without missing a beat, would in fact do it in his dreams half the time.

The ritual of it all was comforting even at the worst of times, and there were loads of those. Sometimes Eggsy would catch Roxy staring at him out of the corner of his eye, but when he'd turn toward her she'd just shake her head at him, smiling, betrayed only by the tiny line she got between her eyebrows when she wanted to be frowning but couldn't.

It was a look Eggsy knew well (for all he knew, she'd invented it specifically for him), but he had no idea why she'd be upset by tea. 

Seemed completely unBritish, if you asked him.

*

In his old life, long before the Kingmen, Eggsy had always fancied himself a rather good poker player. Good enough to beat all of his mates, anyway, though by the time he'd spent more than ten minutes in Harry's company he'd realized that that meant less than nothing.

Merlin had once pointed out to him (with, Eggsy thought, a degree of glee unbecoming in a gentleman), that Eggsy had 6 extremely obvious tells, and 14 slightly more subtle ones. Eggsy had spent a lot of nights lying awake, staring at the ceiling above his bed and trying to work out what they were, and why any of them would make Merlin's eyes practically shine when he said it. 

He always managed to fall asleep before he got all of them.

*

When they had an hour free and could get into the city in the evening - which was not as often as either of them would like - Roxy and Eggsy met up in the back of a dingy pub that was usually filled with students, enough that they could disappear into the crowd and wouldn't draw any attention.

Their table was at the back, where they could keep an eye on the door and the kitchen unobtrusively. The problem with Kingsman training was that you could never turn it off, and you never wanted to. It was still a burden remembering all of it all the time. They hadn't been part of the organization long enough for it to become second nature, like breathing, but they were getting there.

Slowly.

"Harry told me that when he was just starting out, his first job was easier than the rest because he didn't really understand how easily the job could go sideways, so he wasn't scared at all. He was young and stupid, he said." He drank deeply, contemplating this. "Like we are, I expect."

Roxy shot him a glare. "Speak for yourself."

"Our training hasn't been so bad."

Roxy looked at him incredulously.

"Sure, we almost died, but we didn't. That's the difference."

"Your definition of 'bad' is not the same as mine."

"That's not exactly news," Eggsy shrugged. "Harry thinks a bunch of near death experiences help us become better agents. Assuming one of us actually comes out on top of all this, that is."

"I assume I will," Roxy told him, smirking. 

Eggsy raised his glass, unable to hold back a smile. "I assume you will, too. Of all of us, you're the best, Rox."

"Thank you, Eggsy. Same to you."

Eggsy gave her a half smile, keeping an eye on the big window overlooking the street, wondering if Merlin was watching them even then. _Of course_ Merlin was watching them. He probably even had some way of listening to their conversations. He _definitely_ had some way if listening to their conversations. Instead of making Eggsy feel paranoid, it made him excited. This is what he wanted, and he'd never wanted to do anything more. His whole life had been a complicated tangle, and the possibility of Kingsman offered clarity and simplicity.

Part of him wished he'd called Harry when he was younger, when he might've been angrier and maybe the transition would've been easier. On the other hand, younger Eggsy might not have recognized the opportunity for what it was. He definitely wouldn't have appreciated Harry.

When he tried to tell Roxy about this, she just rolled her eyes and sighed.

"What?"

"Don't you ever talk about anything but Harry?"

Eggsy frowned. "I talk about lots of things," he said slowly.

"Lots of things to do with Harry."

"I spend a lot of time with him," Eggsy said, stung

"Yeah," Roxy agreed, and there was something in her tone that made Eggsy narrow his eyes.

"I do," he insisted.

"I know you do. More than any of the rest of us spend with the person who proposed us."

"Maybe we just get on better."

Roxy snorted. "Does he ask you to spend so much time with him?"

Eggsy shook his head. "No, he's always telling me to go live life while I'm young, don't get wrapped up in work and let it be everything. He says it's too easy to do that, in our line of work." Because Harry was kind, even when he was a bastard. It was once of the most enduring things about him, and Eggsy had a fully indexed and footnoted list that he'd been working on since the day they'd met. Well, the second time. 

"If he wants you to go out and live your life, you're not doing a very good job of it."

It was a shot across the bow, and Eggsy took a deep breath. "You're one to talk."

"I'm not as bad as you. Sure, I work hard, but not - not like you." She reached across the table and touched the knuckles of his hand lightly.

Eggsy gave her a tired look. "I want to be good at this, all of this. I feel like I started out ten paces behind everyone else, so I have to work extra hard at it. That's all."

"That's all?"

"And...I don't want to disappoint him." That, he thought could go without saying. It was what was under the words that he couldn't properly explain, could barely admit, even to himself. He looked at her helplessly.

Roxy sighed, and Eggsy had the distinct impression that she was just barely holding in a right bollocking - one he probably deserved.

She studied him for a long moment before shaking her head. "In that case, next round's on me."

*  
There were times when Harry would clip his vowels in exactly the same way that Eggsy most feared and hated secondary school teacher always had, and even just a couple of sentences would make Eggsy mental - a Pavlovian flight or flight response no matter what else was going on that he couldn't shake. 

It took Eggsy a while to figure out Harry was doing it on purpose, and even longer for him to work out what it meant: that somewhere along the line, maybe even at the very start, Harry had tracked down that teacher, likely all of his teachers. Harry had made a study of him the same way that Eggsy had been working on him, and for the life of him Eggsy wasn't sure what it meant.

He knew what he wanted it to mean, but life had never really given him what he wanted. 

*

Eggsy strongly suspected that Merlin scheduled their outdoor training during the rain on purpose, partly to teach them to operate their weapons in less than perfect conditions but mostly because he was a sadistic fuck who liked to watch them shiver and slide in the mud for a couple of hours. Eggsy would almost have admired him for it, if JB hadn't hated the rain and refused to do anything at all in it by cower and make pitiful snorting sounds that made Eggsy feel even more guilty.

"It's not my fault," Eggsy hissed at him, trying to lean over him and cover him from the plodding rain.

JB just looked at him balefully. 

"I know," Eggsy sighed.

He did know, and that's why it wasn't a surprise at all when afterward, when all he wanted to do was take a hot shower and get into something dry, instead he was summoned to one of the endless supply of concrete rooms whose purpose he couldn't quite determine, with Merlin sitting behind a console, warm and dry and sipping a cup of tea and studiously ignoring Eggsy while he finished writing something. Sadistic.

"Get your outer things off. I need to take some measurements." Merlin didn't look at him.

"Measurements?" Eggsy asked, even as he started unbuttoning his coat. At some point, without even noticing it was happening, he'd started following Merlin's orders without questioning them first, and Eggsy was never quite sure what it meant. Trusting Harry was one thing, as easy as breathing, but Merlin and all the rest were still other. At least, that's what he'd thought they were.

As he dropped the sodden coat on the floor, he wondered if that was still true.

"Measurements," Merlin confirmed, holding out a measuring tape. 

"Shouldn't the tailor do this?" 

One side of Merlin's mouth quirked. "The tailor does it for clothes. This isn't for clothes."

"What's it for, then?" 

Merlin just smiled.

"You don't like to give much away, do you?"

"Is there a part of 'secret organization' that you don't understand?"

Eggsy fiddled with a pen Merlin had left on the table until Merlin reached over and pulled it out of his hands. Gently.

Eggsy shifted from foot to foot until Merlin glared. "I guess you've known Henry for a while," he said finally.

"Maybe," Merlin answered without looking at him.

"You're mates, outside of work," Eggsy pressed. Harry had never mentioned anything about it, but Eggsy had eyes.

Merlin cleared his throat. "Kingsman doesn't approve of fraternization, Eggsy. Teamwork, sure. Camaraderie, sure. But there are limits."

"Are there?"

"Officially, yeah. And, as you probably know by now, there's no such thing as secrets."

Eggsy chewed on that for a while. He did notice that it wasn't an actual answer, but that wasn't the main thing. " _Doesn't approve_ of isn't the same as _forbids_ ," he pointed out.

"For the purposes of someone in your position, it is the same." Merlin glared at him. "They won't let you in if they think a personal relationship will undermine team cohesion. Use your fucking head, Eggsy."

It was, Eggsy thought later, Merlin's way of looking out for him, which had to count for something. 

*

"Don't you ever get tired of taking these taxis?" He had met Harry outside the tailor shop, a bottle of Scotch that he'd expected Harry would like in one hand. Despite the question, Eggsy had to admit that the bar in the back of the taxi was coming in extremely handy at the moment.

Harry frowned, considering. "They let you conduct business on the road. The drivers are top notch, trained by the very best. Much better than having to drive yourself, if you ask me."

"See, that's the difference between us. I like driving. I _like_ having to drive myself. It's fun."

Harry snorted. "Your driving is ridiculous."

Eggsy gaped at him. "What the fuck are you on about? My driving is amazing. No one can touch me behind the wheel of a car."

Harry looked at him in the way that Eggsy would've thought was stern before he'd gotten to know Harry, and now he just knew was Harry's way of making disapproving faces over something he secretly liked well enough. "Your driving is reckless and far too fast."

"Yeah," Eggsy shrugged, "that's what makes it amazing. You just wish you could drive like I do."

"I'll have you know that I'm no slouch behind the wheel myself, when the situation warrants it."

"That's the problem then. You're always waiting for the situation to warrant it, you never get to cut loose and have fun on your own terms." Eggsy considered. "I suppose that's not very gentlemanly."

"Quite," Harry said dryly. "Restraint is the cornerstone of everything I've taught you."

"Yeah," Eggsy muttered. Like he hadn't heard _that_ five hundred times.

"And yet the one thing you've never truly managed to master." He held up a hand over Eggsy's protest. "I don't mean that as a criticism. There is certainly such a thing as too much restraint, and I sometimes think the organization has suffered from that, over the years. Thought over action every time can lead to stagnation. Having new blood has helped, though some people will never admit it. Even if you do drive too fast." He clapped one hand on Eggsy's shoulder, pulling him into a half hug.

"Glad you think so," Eggsy said, his heart beating faster. He swallowed the rest of what he was going to say, settling back in his seat and trying to calm himself down before Harry noticed.

*

Roxy was waiting at their table near the back of the pub, and she'd been waiting for a while, judging by the number of empties strewn over the table. 

"Sorry I'm late," Eggsy told her, trying to ignore the steely glare she gave him. "I was helping Harry -"

Roxy held up a hand. "I don't want to hear it."

"But -"

"Harry snapped his fingers and of course you went running. Couldn't even be bothered to text and tell me you wouldn't be turning up for over an hour."

Even though he knew it would make things worse, Eggsy couldn't help defending Harry. "He didn't ask, I just thought he might want some help, you know. He tries to do too much on his own. I was just trying to - "

Roxy just closed her eyes, sighing. 

"I am really, really sorry, Rox. You know that."

"I _do_ know. I just wish you'd get your head out of your ass about Harry, because it's really getting in the way of us being friends."

"Harry's my mentor," he started uncertainly.

"Is that all?" She gave him a tired look. "If you're lying to me, that's bad enough. If you're lying to yourself, it's really time to stop."

*

And that was the thing, really. Eggsy was extremely aware that despite everything Harry had done for him, he might still consider Eggsy nothing more than a semi-interesting project, an Eliza Doolittle-esque challenge to amuse himself with until something better was on the telly. That just because something was life-changingly vital to Eggsy didn't mean it was even a blip on the radar for anyone else. That _he_ was even a blip on the radar. 

Even if it meant having Harry laugh at him, or treat him like an idiot or whatever else he was going to do. He owed Harry everything, and always would, and as much as he didn't want anything to change between them, he needed to know what would happen. Even if it wasn't the thing he wanted to have happen.

He dressed carefully, even more carefully than usual. Harry's lessons about how to wear a suit like it was a second skin were paying off, and Eggsy thought he'd even broken the habit of putting his hands in his pockets, folding them neatly instead and only feeling a little uncomfortable doing it. 

Harry pursed his lips when he saw him, and Eggsy wished he knew what Harry was reading on his face, wished he'd learnt enough to be able to read harry in return. He glanced at Harry's hands, but they were steepled lightly, revealing nothing. Eggsy wasn't sure if he was relieved about that or not.

He found Harry behind his desk, the _Sun_ covers staring him down from the walls, all of the important moments in Harry's life, judging him. It was a daft idea, but unshakable once he'd had it. Eggsy would've maybe brought that thought to its logical conclusion if Harry hadn't been smiling slightly, the knowing private smile that meant that Eggsy was currently exceeding his expectations, that he was proud of him. Eggsy would've - still would, if he were honest - kill for that smile. But what it meant at the moment was that he knew exactly why Eggsy was there, and Eggsy suddenly wondered how long he'd been waiting for this. Known it was coming and staged the scene carefully, knowingly. Because Harry did know him, better than anyone. 

Eggsy closed his eyes and just breathed for a moment, wanting desperately to do this right and not make an arse of himself. 

"Well?" Harry asked, not unkindly, when the silence had stretched out. 

Well. 

Harry had told him once that he didn't want Eggsy to become a carbon copy of him, that Eggsy would find his own way of being a gentleman, that he would form the gentleman around himself, instead of twisting himself to fit a mold. Eggsy hoped he'd lived up to that, though he knew he wasn't done with the lessons yet. 

"I want to - I would like to take you out to dinner tonight. If you're amenable." He sucked in a quick breath, trying to steady his nerves. "I want to take _you_ out." He clarified, just in case.

"That's what you came here to ask me? Dinner?" Harry repeated

"Yeah." Eggsy could feel his own grin crawling across his face slowly. "Dinner." 

"I'm amenable." 

*

Eggsy took a deep breath, screwing up his courage. Courage had never been a problem for him; it was everything else that had been the problem, but he'd never really considered what this moment would be like once he was finally here, either. "I think we should date," he finally said, wincing a bit at how blunt it sounded. He'd meant to work his way up to it, but subtlety and fancy words were Harry's department, not his. 

"Do you?" Harry asked, his face shuttered, his tone neutral, but Eggsy wasn't bothered by that. Harry's hand was relaxed by his side, and that was all that mattered.

"Yeah. And so do you."

That made Harry look at him sharply, and Eggsy knew he was right. He couldn't have stopped grinning if Harry had pulled a gun on him. "Merlin already tried to warm me off of _fraternizing_. I figure I'm not an agent yet, so it doesn't matter so much."

"With that kind of logic, I'm beginning to see how you got arrested so many times." There was no bite to it, though, and if anything Eggsy's grin widened. Harry hadn't said no.

Harry cleared his throat. "It would be difficult," he warned.

Eggsy shrugged. "I like difficult. I am brilliant at difficult."

"You like to think so."

"Yeah, I do."

Harry looked at him for a long moment. "All right."

And Eggsy wondered if he'd ever stop grinning at all.


End file.
